Promises, Broken or Not
by AlexThor
Summary: The fledgling romance between Marshall Lee and Fionna may be good for the Vampire King, but it sparks a violent incident that may change the face of Aaa...Rated M for later chapters, Marshall/Fionna
1. Chapter 1 - Start near the End

Marshall Lee would be the first one to admit he sometimes had a problem controlling his anger. This was something he'd learned to accept about himself. Maybe it was because he was stuck permanently at eighteen years old, maybe it was because he was a vampire, or maybe that was just him. It didn't matter.

For a while he'd denied that this side of him, this angry, vengeful side, existed. Eighteen or not, he'd done some growing up. He knew who he was now. And he knew that he was angry. Right now especially.

He pulled himself out of his reverie to snarl at Gumball. The pink bastard was always perfectly groomed, even when something like this was going on. And he still had that glittery little tiara on.

Marshall Lee could remember when he'd been friends with Gumball. Great friends. It really hadn't been that long ago, especially in the scope of his lifetime. But hate has a funny way of making people forget the good times.

The thing about Marshall that made his temper that much worse was the fact that he was a vampire. That meant when things got heated and adrenaline got pumping, he was liable to put a hole in a brick wall without even noticing. Or put a hole in some poor sod's chest.

Said adrenaline had a funny way of distorting everything. Suddenly Marshall Lee felt like everything around him had been immersed in a swimming pool. Bubba threw his crown aside and it seemed to take seconds to fall.

Mortals might put in a good effort, but when it came down to it, they were just that. Mortals. Less than, a degree of magnitude below a vampire. A vampire KING at that.

Marshall hissed something he couldn't hear himself and darted forward. He moved so fast that Bubba and Fionna wouldn't have even know it had happened until it already had.

His fist caught the underside of Gumball's ribcage and he felt bones snap under the blow. Weird. He'd never thought that the guy would even _have_ bones. Just...more bubblegum.

The strike sent Gumball into the wall behind him and slumped against it, trying to keep himself on his feet. Gumball was busy trying to gasp in air and Fionna was still sidelined, screaming something at the top of her lungs. But it was all so slow, like the rest of the world was running at half speed.

Damn that girl. This was her fault. Or his. Or theirs. Really, Marshall conjectured to himself as his body continued on its course without him, it was all of their faults. Another fist slammed into Gumball's jaw, and Marshall was vaguely aware that it was his. Bubba's head snapped back and he seemed like he might lose consciousness.

_Not on my watch_, he thought. Even if he hated him, Marshall respected the Prince on a personal level. He was a good guy - if a bit fruity - but he needed to learn what _was_ his and what _wasn't_ Namely, Fionna.

Marshall picked the half-conscious man up by the scruff of his neck and hauled him back to his feet.

"We're not _finished_, Gumball" he hissed, spitting the name like it was poison. He dug his claws into pink flesh, raking them across his neck and drawing blood. The Prince whimpered. Pathetic. He didn't even try to struggle in vain.

"Now" Marshall continued, dropping his voice to a whisper and putting his mouth next to Gumball's ear. "You need to be educated on what's _yours_" he drove his knee into Gumball's crotch, drawing an agonized yelp. "And what's _mine_" again, this time met with a sharp intake of breath and a groaning exhalation.

"Stop it, Marshall!" Fionna screamed, her voice shrill with fear and anger. So THAT'S what she'd been yelling the whole time. Marshall debated ignoring her. She was part of the problem as far as he was concerned. But if he wasn't doing this for her, what was the point?

He opened his hand and dropped Gumball. The Prince deserved some unconsciousness, anyhow.

Fionna ran up to Marshall, tears in her eyes. She looked torn between crying and punching him across the face.

So she did both. "Ow" Marshall muttered under his breath. She had a mean right hook. "What was THAT about?! You are...you...ugh, you're _so stupid_!". She looked pitifully at Bubba. "_Both_ of you" she said in a softer voice. At least he wasn't getting all the blame.

Marshall sighed. He had a lot of explaining to do, more to himself than anyone else. Even if he ran, just took off right now and went somewhere else for a while, he'd still have to answer to himself.

He might as well start at the beginning...


	2. Chapter 2 - Things Start Happening

The whole thing, or at least the whole thing as Marshall Lee knew it, had started a few months ago at Fionna's birthday party.

He could remember that night like it was yesterday. Cake. Streamers. A banner with her name on it. They hadn't had any of those things. There had been some..._misunderstandings_ between him and Gumball that resulted in thirty seconds of yelling, several minutes of pouting and huffing, and a lack of any decorations, food or things that would make a party a party.

Gumball had managed to gather up some of his precious Candy people, such as Ms Cupcake, Cinnamon Bun and a couple others Marshall Lee swore he had never seen before.

Marshall Lee, on the other hand, had brought _cool_ people. People who might be _fun_ at a party, birthday or otherwise. Keith, the Scream Kings' lead guitarist was hanging from the ceiling and Girl, their keyboardist, was hovering around Gumball.

Not _literally_ hovering, that was Keith. But Girl's eyes never seemed to get too far from Gumball. She had that slightly dreamy look in her eyes of the hopelessly infatuated, people who never notice that the person they love has absolutely no idea they exist.

So there they were, a motley party crew waiting in the dark in Fionna's house. She was supposed to be home at 7pm. Marshall Lee cast a glance towards the clock with pictures of Fionna and Cake for hands. _7:23_

The Vampire King was seriously considering leaving when the doors finally burst inwards, revealing a blonde girl and her cat. Or sister. Or whatever they called it.

Gumball hit the lightswitch, Marshall Lee put on his scariest face and everyone yelled "_Surprise_!". Fionna jumped and went white as Marshall Lee, reaching frantically for her sword.

The party went as well as it could without any food, decorations or very interesting people. Keith and Girl were fine in Marshall's book, but they were providing the entertainment. He probably should have joined them, but it wasn't a gig PER SE so they couldn't make him do anything.

He spent half the night trying to sweet-talk Cake into giving him something to drink _besides _juice, be it orange or cranberry. That was a wasted hour.

In all honesty, Marshall Lee didn't pay much attention to Fionna at her birthday party. He drifted around, listened to Keith and Girl, antagonized Bubba, scared the Candy people and generally did vampire-y things...but didn't exactly get around to interacting with Fionna.

And that struck him as odd. He _loved_ hanging out with Fionna, whether it be their constant jam sessions or their weekly monster-hunting and subsequent monster butt-kicking.

Then again, he'd been seeing her a lot lately. WAY more than he'd used to. She tended to cling to him, coming over three or four nights a week to do...something. Marshall Lee wasn't sure. Sometimes they didn't jam or kick evil's butt, just sat around and talked about pointless stuff.

That was definitely a big change. It was weird to think about Fionna, monster-slaying, evil-fighting, dungeon-crawling Fionna just talking.

He banished the thought. When you live for a thousand years and have your own rogue's gallery of people who want you dead, you tend to overanalyze things. Fionna didn't need analyzation, she wasn't trying to kill him.

She didn't want his crown, his throne, his powers, his stuff, she just wanted...him. Marshall chuckled to himself. That was one of the funniest thing he'd thought of in a while. He'd have to remember that so he could torment her later.

It was getting to be near midnight when Marshall Lee remembered he hadn't even given her her present yet.

He dashed off to find her, floating through the house with a purpose. She wasn't in the living room, the kitchen, the treasure room. Weird. That was where the party was.

In the end, Marshall found Fionna sitting on her bed in her room. _Duh, Marshall_. He kicked himself for not having the common sense to check here first.

She jumped again when she noticed him, but didn't reach for her sword this time. Confident that he wasn't going to lose an ear, Marshall Lee glided over to her bed and took a seat next to her.

"Hey Marshall Lee" she said cheerily. He could hear her heart racing and her cheeks were tinted pink. Good old Keith and Girl, they could get anyone pumped up. He was glad to have them in the band. Well technically it was Keith's band, but still...

"What's up, Fionna? You ready for your present?" Marshall Lee asked, digging into his pockets in search of her gift. She nodded emphatically.

With a sweeping gesture and a victorious look, the vampire produced a crystal ring colored deep emerald. Light refracted off its many-faceted surface and played across the walls of Fionna's room. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, scooting closer to him and snatching the ring.

"_Coool_" she said under her breath, turning the ring in her hands. Marshall Lee smiled triumphantly. It was always nice to have your efforts appreciated.

"And" he added, clasping the hand she held the ring in "It's not _just_ jewelry. That'd be very, _very_ lame. It's a power ring, dude!". Even he was a little excited about that. Power rings were rare and they were pretty damn cool in his book.

Fionna shrugged off his hand and blushed, turning her face as she slipped on the ring. A tiny gout of flame burst from the ring, ruby red fire brightening the room. "But aren't power rings-" "Cursed? Not that one. You wouldn't _believe_ how many pixies I had to strangle to get an uncursed power ring".

Fionna laughed and punched him in the arm, accidentally singing the collar of his shirt. She yelped and in an instant she was pressed up against him, trying to brush the ash off his shoulders.

He grabbed her wrists to stop her and suddenly a sense of...something, he wasn't sure what, settled over Marshall Lee. For a few moments they were just sitting there, his hands around her wrists and her body pressed against his.

For those few moments, he just looked at her. Looked at her eyes. He didn't want to say 'Into her eyes', that just sounded too corny.

Then, once those moments had elapsed and the curious equilibrium of those seconds had tipped, he understood. No, he didn't understand. But he saw it, saw it in her eyes. That same expression of hopeless infatuation he'd seen in Girl's eyes.

That was when it kicked off. That was when she kissed him.


	3. Chapter 3 - Running

Marshall Lee's mind was filled with a thousand racing thoughts, all competing for his attention. His brain wasn't helping him make decisions here; if anything it was making the whole situation more confusing.

For a few seconds, he thought about continuing the kiss. Thought about working his lips against hers, leaving a burning trail of kisses down her neck and past her clavicle. It had been a long time. Too long.

He wanted to see her shudder, to make her gasp. Wanted to feel the press of her body against his and the thrill of her hands on him. To forget all the stupid things he'd done and immerse himself in her. To hear her scream his name.

Marshall Lee wanted her. In theory. But this was Fionna. When he thought about that, it seemed wrong somehow. She was like a little sister to him not a...he'd never thought of her as...

Eyes still wide, he pushed her off. He was on his feet in an instant, backing towards the window almost instinctively. _Almost_.

Fionna went red as a tomato, on her feet as well. She couldn't seem to look at him, eyes fixed on an invisible point on the floor. He was such a damned _idiot_, how had he not seen this coming? Had she planned this? Sitting alone, on her bed, heart racing and cheeks blushing, waiting for him to show up...

"Marshall" she said, still refusing to look at him "Marshall I...just wait a second. Please". Marshall Lee swallowed hard, bringing himself to a stop. He could go now. He could be _gone_ by now, out the window and halfway home.

So why wasn't he?

"I'm sorry" she started again, looking every bit the old Fionna. Unlike a minute ago, she was a scared kid again. "Look, I just-" "It's okay" he said, cutting her off. His words seemed to surprise her as much as they did him. How was this okay?

"Fionna, I should go" Marshall Lee continued, averting his eyes from her and rubbing the back of his neck. If there was any blood left in him, he was sure he would have been blushing furiously.

She took a few furtive steps toward him, reaching out to him with a single hand. "Stay" she said in a tone quieter than she'd ever used on him. "I...I want you to stay".

He did too. That was the problem here, he _wanted_ to stay. But for the wrong reasons. Marshall Lee had two options here. He could level with her, explain why he shouldn't stay and what he was feeling and why it was wrong. Or he could do was he did best, what he'd been doing for a thousand years and would do for another thousand. Rather than be honest with her, he picked the second option.

He ran.

It was times like these he was glad to be a vampire. He didn't get to go out in the sun and he had to watch everyone die, but when it came time to run he could outdo the best of them.

Marshall Lee was out the window before she knew what he was doing, crashing to the ground in a shower of broken glass. He caught himself inches above the ground, hovering just above the grass.

Then he was running. Running as fast as he could, feet pounding along the dirt and arms pumping. He put nearly two hundred feet between him and the house before he remembered he could fly.

Marshall Lee took off, sliding across the night sky, black on black, invisible to all but the most perceptive.

He arrived at home minutes later, gliding into the cave and slamming the door shut behind him. He slumped against it and sunk to the ground, panting. He shouldn't have been panting. Flying didn't leave him breathless like this, chest heaving.

Damn that girl.

Marshall Lee put his head on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to sift through everything that had happened.

He'd given her the magic ring. Made a joke about pixie-strangling. She'd accidentally singed him, closed in to brush the cinders off his shoulder. Then she'd kissed him. Just..._kissed_ him.

Maybe the ring WAS cursed. No. That was stupid. _You're being stupid_, he told himself. Thinking it was a curse or some kind of magic was just another way of running from the problem.

Which he'd just done, and rather well at that. If one _could _run from a problem well, then that's what he'd done.

He sighed and pushed himself onto his feet. Went to the kitchen and opened the fridge, fishing around for anything remotely edible. A few moldy tomatoes, some cans of Coke...Strawberries!

Marshall Lee grabbed the strawberries and drained one of its red. He loved strawberries. They were DEFINITELY on his list of top ten things.

He drifted over to the couch and hung in the air above it, devouring strawberry after strawberry.

It appeared he'd found a third way of running from his problems.

**Hello audience! How are you liking my...whatever it is that I'm writing? Again, if you see anything glaringly bad or broken, let me know! Hope you're liking this, another update is coming soon!**


	4. Chapter 4 - Self Hate

**Finally I wrote something. Sad to say, but updates are going to be a bit sporadic for a while. I've gotten fairly busy recently and inspiration has been infrequent at best lately. But I'll keep buggering on! Oh btw kids, if you are...well, a kid, you might wanna stop reading now. Go on. Just, turn away.**

**Are they gone? Okay.**

Marshall Lee touches himself. Sometimes. It's a fact that he doesn't like to admit, especially to himself. Well, he would _never_ tell someone else that. And no one willingly asks a vampire a question that's liable to get them killed.

But when you're body's eighteen years old and you're stuck at the height of your sexuality...He still doesn't like to think about it.

And it's been a long time since he and Ashley parted ways. Not that it was a bad thing, Ashley being queen of the bitches and all. No, he'd flense her grey hide right off her if he got even the slightest chance, Candy Law be damned. Marshall Lee just wasn't sure where she was hiding...

He grips himself roughly, teeth grinding and jaw clenching. He tries to replay something in his head, something actually pleasant. Something ecstatic. Something that isn't the mindless, almost degrading sex he'd had with Ashley. But who was there besides her? Before her it was...was...nearly a hundred years ago. Despite the bad boy veneer, Marshall Lee wasn't that much of a lady's man. Hopeless romantic fit him better. _Hopeless_ being the operative word.

He rides waves of pleasure, a sailor cast adrift on a churning sea of sensation, trying to conjure up some image.

And it isn't Ashley that he pictures. It isn't Jessica, if that was her name. To Marshall Lee's utter horror, its _Fionna_ that he thinks of. What it would be like to hold her hips down, thrust into her, make her gasp.

Though it's not really possible, he wishes for a moment he could stop. But he comes undone, bracing himself up against the wall with one hand and pressing his forehead to the cool surface.

He sighs angrily. It wasn't the first time he'd thought about Fionna in the two weeks since her birthday party, but he hadn't thought of her like _that_...

It was _wrong_. And not in the awesome way. She may have been eighteen now, but she was still a kid. When you're a thousand years old, nothing really stacks up anyways, but she's...

She's _Fionna_, that's who she was. Adventuress extraordinaire, righteous warrior and monster slayer. Everyone's friend. His _friend_.

He repeats it aloud, trying to implant the word deep in his mind. FRIEND. Fionna is his friend and nothing more. She's not that. She couldn't be that.

No, he wouldn't _allow_ her to be _that_.

He tries to shake off the heady feeling that fills him. He thinks about Ashley. A combination of righteous fury and bottomless regret always shatter any positive emotion.

Marshall Lee groans to himself, resting his head on his knuckles. What is he going to do about this? It's a problem, one he's been trying to solve for the last two weeks.

After he fled Fionna's house and locked himself in his house, he hadn't left. He'd sequestered himself, trying to formulate a response to this puzzling situation. She'd arrived at his house the next day. Knocking and knocking, while he hid like a child.

It was times like these that Marshall Lee _hates_ himself. He really does. After a thousand years of jockeying for position in vampire courts and evading countless adversaries who were after the crown, he doubted if there was anything _good_ left in him. There _couldn't_ be. Not after a thousand years of watching people die. Whether they were friends or lovers or enemies, all of it got to him after a while.

He couldn't have answered her, not then. Not that soon after the _incident_. When he saw her he would need answers to her questions. Or maybe he needed questions. Marshall Lee groaned again. He didn't know what to do.

So when a knock came at the door, he prepared to turn off the lights and leap into the bathtub to cower.

He checked the door's peephole just to make sure he wasn't cowering for no reason. To his mild surprise, it wasn't Fionna. It was one of Bubba's candy people, a diminutive little peppermint thing with an immaculate blue dress.

Rather reluctantly, he opens the door, careful to plaster an "I'm very busy and don't have time for you" expression on his face.

Peppermint Maid opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off with a calculatedly disdainful sigh. "Lemme guess" he drawls "Bubba wants me at one of his_ tea parties_?".

Her mouth purses into an indignant frown. "_Prince Gumball_ has invited you to attend a _reception_, yes". She eyes him up and down, a single eyebrow raised. Her gaze lingers on his two week-old plaid shirt. "You _would_ be the vampire _king_, correct?".

Marshall Lee doesn't even try to suppress his chuckle. If l there was one thing Gumball could do, it was hire great servants. This one had the perfect mix of snark, dignity and servitude.

"Alright" he sighs "Let's get going, Peppermint".


	5. Chapter 5 - Tea Party

**I am so, SO sorry about the delay. What's it been, two weeks? More? Atrocious. Again, I'd like to apologize for not updating sooner. Work has been soul-crushing lately (as in, more soul-crushing than usual) and I haven't had the time or energy. Anyways, here it is!**

Of course Fionna has to be here, Marshall Lee thinks to himself. Sitting across from him, separated only by a small round table. Her blonde hair flowing where usually that ridiculous white hat would have been. She's beautiful.

_No_. He crushes the thought, slamming his porcelain tea cup to the table with enough force to shatter it and draw concerned looks from Gumball and Fionna. He doesn't bother to make eye contact with them.

Instead he continues to stare darkly at a point somewhere behind the two of them. Brows furrowed, he tries to fix his attention solely on that point.

But of course...

"Is everything alright, Marshall Lee?" Gumball asks in that voice of his, a perfect blend of innocent curiosity and serious concern. Fionna looks uncomfortable sitting there. She hasn't spoken for the entire course of the "reception".

Gumball's "receptions" were really closer to tea parties. In that they were quite literally tea parties. Gumball, with his pink clothes and pink hair and pink everything, invited Marshall Lee over all the time. They would sit at this exact table and Gumball would serve him the same kind of tea from the same frilly little porcelain cups.

Marshall Lee was seriously beginning to question whether Gumball was a twenty four-year old prince or a little boy who had gotten into his mother's wardrobe and the fine china.

He huffs angrily as Gumball's gaze intensifies, still waiting for an answer.

"Yes, _Gumball_" he says, still refusing to look at either of them "Everything's fine, _Gumball_". _God_, he thinks to himself, _I_ _sound like a child_.

Gumball's well-rehearsed grace slips imperceptibly, his lips pursing slightly and his brow furrowing just a bit. He grumbles something to himself. Fionna remains silent.

"Marshall" Gumball says beseechingly "If something's wrong I'm sure-". Marshall Lee cuts him off with a glare so penetrating, he's surprised Gumball isn't physically hurt by it. He'd been aiming for it.

They stare at eachother in silence for a moment, locked in a bitter mental struggle. The moment stretches into minutes, and Gumball takes a sip from his teacup, never breaking eye contact. Fionna shifts uncomfortably.

Finally Marshall Lee starts to become bored with being angry. Cold glares across a table are something he's mastered over his thousand years, but he really doesn't have the patience for this. He pushes his chair back and stands to leave.

"Wait" says Fionna, words bursting from her mouth after the long silence. "Don't just run off, man. That's not cool". His back is already turned and he's near the window, but he stops in his tracks.

"Look, I'm sorry about...whatever man. And, I know how you feel okay?". Her voice starts to become throatier, and if he'd turned around he's sure there would be tears forming in her eyes. He doesn't want to turn around. Fionna pauses, draws in a deep breath and exhales slowly.

"But I'd rather keep you as a guy friend than have you just...ignore me all the time. We used to hang out like every day, but I haven't even seen you in two weeks". Two weeks? He's sure it was only one. It _couldn't_ have been two...

"So" her voice becomes louder, angrier, taking on some of that equal parts endearing and intimidating Fionna bravado "So just stop being such a _loser shut-in and hang out with your friends_!". He hears her take in a sharp breath, surprised at her own words.

Marshall Lee stands, tensed, caught somewhere between leaping out the window and returning to the table. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath. Allows silence to fill the room.

Its a heavy kind of silence. Not the silence made by a lack of noise. Not the silence of mourning or sepulchritude, weighted as it may be. The silence that fills the air now is the silence of things unsaid, the dull bittersweet ache of words straining to be released.

"Look" he says quietly, finally turning to face the pair. His eyes still fail to meet theirs. "I'm sorry, okay?". Pause. "I really am" he continues, despondent "Fionna, you're...important to me". Her eyes widen a bit. Hell. He didn't want to say this. It would hurt like hell, for both of them.

But it had to be said.

"But not in that way. You're like" he pauses, not wanting to go on "Like a sister to me". There. It's done with. He feels like an absolute jackass, even though it's true. He holds his breath, awaiting...he isn't sure. An explosion? An angry blonde girl to run him through with a sword.

His suspicions that he was being ridiculous were confirmed when he looked up at her. She seemed...not fine, but okay. She wasn't crushed. _Of course she's not, you narcissistic bastrad_.

Marshall Lee smiled, at least outwardly. He also made a mental note to tell his conscience to shut up once in awhile.

**Voile, or however that's spelled. I hope you enjoyed, and again, leave me some love in the form of a review. Or hate. Whatever you feel you should confer to me, leave it in the form of a review! And stay tuned for more...I hesitate to call it "awesome" writing, but yeah!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Vampire

**You never thought you'd see an update, did you? I don't blame you. As far as I was concerned, this story was dead. But its back. So...enjoy I suppose. Give me love or hate in the comments.**

Time passed. That was all Marshall Lee was really aware of. He did not measure time in days and weeks and months. He barely measured time at all. It was just a seamless continuum of black night skies and the occasional pre-dawn grey.

Things went back to normal, or at least whatever passed for normality in Marshall's life. Monster slaying with Fionna, tea parties with Gumball - which usually involved copious amounts of argument and very little tea - and the occasional jam sessions with Cake. Marshall was still rapping his head around the guitar-dulcimer combo.

So Marshall found himself sitting in his house trying to figure out if the word "dulcimer" was rooted in "dulce" when there was a knock at his door. He sighed and smoothed some of the creases on his red flannel shirt, drifting down the stairs and into the living room.

He paused just in front of the door, his hand halfway to the doorknob. What if it was Fionna again? He had seen her plenty of times since the meeting at Gumball's, but lately she'd been visiting more and more often. And it was those night-after-night visits that had preceded her birthday, the kiss and...and everything else that had followed.

Not wanting to repeat the past, he opened the peep-hole in his door and peered through. On the other side was a pale, severe face he hadn't seen in awhile.

"I can see you too" she deadpanned, then added with a roll of the eyes and gritted teeth "_My liege_". Marshall opened the door, allowing it to slam into the wall as he stood in front of her, blocking the doorway.

They stood - or in Marshall's case, floated - for a handful of moments, eyes cold and hard. "Been awhile" she said huskily, facial impassivity hardly concealing her intent. Her words did little to distract from the meaning of her visit.

"It has" he replied, his tone measured and his eyes narrow. Her lips quirked upwards with the hint of a smile. "Too long...Marshy". "Vee". "Bastard". "Bitch".

They glared at eachother for a moment, steel in their eyes, before his muscles snapped into motion like coiled snakes.

He clapped a hand on her shoulder, using her as a balance point as his chest rocked with laughter. She followed suit, her laughter lilting and musical in contrast to his own rough, guttural bark of a chuckle.

Eventually he wiped the tears from his eyes and removed his hand from her shoulder. "Invite me in?". He cocked his head. "Invitation's still valid" Marshall said, amusement and confusion evident in equal measure.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes in the way only Veronica could. "Not after you threw me out on my ass last time" she replied, the barest hint of indignation in her flat voice.

"Oh" Marshall uttered, scratching at his shaggy black hair. He could hardly remember that. It must have been at least four decades ago. "Come on in" he said, waving her inside and moving back into the house.

She followed him in and shut the door behind him, locking it carefully. he led her to the couch, where to his shock she sat. "You know that thing's like a rock, right?" he said, drifting lazily near the ceiling.

"I know" she replied. "And yet you always insist on sitting". "I _don't_ insist" Veronica said, shifting uncomfortably on the seldom-used couch. "Neither do you float" Marshall continued, decidedly impetuous. "Bringing me back to the question" he said, now floating level with her "Why don't you float?".

"You know damn well why" she growled. "I don't like it". Marshall laughed that rich, rocky laugh again. The woman sank a little into herself, looking for all the world like she would have blushed if she had any blood left in her capillaries.

Despite her true age, she looked decades older than Marshall Lee. Well into her forties when she was turned, Veronica's face was severe and angular, with a semblance of nobility provided by her high, aristocratic cheekbones. She wore a black dress, plain and unadorned.

She sat for awhile in silence, but Marshall Lee had all the time in the world. Whenever people did this, he simply waited, finding that he usually had more patience than most people.

Finally she spoke. "You know why I'm here" she intoned, looking up at him. He sighed, the flow of ethereal wind that had borne him along in lazy circle seeming to cease.

"Of course I know. It's the only reason you visit". She frowned. "It's a long trip". More silence. "Besides" she continued "I have a regency to deal with. I basically have to run the place, with you always bumming around up here". Marshall still didn't reply. She clearly had something to say, and he was going to wait until she said it.

As the minutes passed, Veronica seemed to only grow more incensed. "Fine" she burst out. "I'm not _just_ here about the half-centennial". Fifty years, not forty. He was losing his grip on time. No wonder she was pissy. Fifty years wasn't much to him, but to her it was significantly more.

"I was going to ask..._am_ asking...if you were going to come back soon". At this, Marshall's body stiffened and his eyes snapped fully open.

"We have had this discussion" he said darkly, pointedly not looking at her. "Yes we have, but I think-" "We have _had_. _This_. _Discussion_" he yelled, cutting her off mid sentence. She cringed, sinking into the couch.

He flipped over, staring down at her from the ceiling. His eyes were red and his hair was whipping around his head as if some unseen wind gusted on only him. He bared his fangs and said, his voice low and dangerous "And we will not have it again".

Veronica stared up at him, eyes gleaming with tears. She wasn't crying out of fear. She wasn't even _crying_ yet, just tearing up. Marshall sighed and floated down to sit beside her.

"I'm sorry" he said, his tone far gentler than the one he'd assumed earlier. "You can stay here for the next few mornings. I need to get some things together. Then we'll head out".

She nodded, dabbing the tears away with a kerchief. He felt sorry for making her cry. Veronica wasn't an easy woman to reduce to tears. Among the vampires he'd met, Marshall Lee considered her to be one of the tougher ones. He went into the kitchen and found her a tomato, tossing it to her.

Veronica looked at it, bemused. "Really?". Marshall nodded solemnly. "No blood in the fridge? No pretty girls for me? No secret stash in the basement?". "Don't have a basement" Marshall replied.

Veronica rolled her eyes again, sinking a fang into the red fruit. "I hate your new house".


End file.
